


Empathy-Forged Friends

by Diary



Series: Dog Saved World [6]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Bechdel Test Fail, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Deaf Clint Barton, Flashbacks, Friendship/Love, Gen, Late Night Conversations, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Natasha Romanov-centric, POV Female Character, POV Natasha Romanov, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 06:59:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6413608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha plays wingwoman for Clint, and she and Steve have several soul-baring conversations. Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empathy-Forged Friends

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own The Avengers.

_Past_

Steve sighs when she sits down next to him. “This one was on me.”

She leans back against the wall. “Before I respond to that, I’m going to tell you a story.”

Shrugging, he keeps his eyes on the wreckage across the street.

“I wasn’t entirely honest with Loki. Clint- when Agent Barton was sent to kill me, he was tired. ‘Tired’ is the word we’ve always used. It’s more understandable, I suppose. Anyone can be tired. It doesn’t mean there’s something wrong inside their brain or heart or whatever else. A little bit of relaxation, maybe some sleep, and tired is almost always curable.”

He looks over at her.

“Agent Barton didn’t exactly make a different call. He had me cornered, he could have made the kill shot, and instead, he walked away and contacted S.H.I.E.L.D. to tell them that I’d gotten away and they needed to send someone else. And for all he’ll defend me now, his reason wasn’t that he saw something redeemable in me. It wasn’t because he was attracted to me or got stupid when confronted with a pretty face.”

“He walked away, knowing I might well come after him, because, his tiredness had almost fully taken over. It was my luckiest night, and one of his most unlucky.”

Exhaling, he closes his eyes.

“You’ve been tired since you woke up, Steve. And all I can do for you is try to do the same thing I did for him: provide a catalyst for you understanding this. In his case, I also provided a catalyst for S.H.I.E.L.D. realising it about him. I won’t do that to you, this time. I screwed up by not being honest, and now, you screwed up by being tired. If you screw up again, I won’t let it slide.”

“Thanks,” he mutters.

“As your friend, I’m asking you to get help. As a Russian working for an international organisation, I’m patriotic towards America only in that I consider it a country worth protecting, and you being the captain of it has never meant anything to me. Stark and Banner helped us save the world, and my recognition of their contribution doesn’t significantly increase a fondness towards them. All that leaves is the man who once asked to be friends. And he’s the one I would cry over if something happened to him.”

“I’d hate to be the reason a girl cried,” he says through a sniffle.

Reaching over, she links her fingers through his.

“Okay,” he finally says. “I’ll talk to Sam and tell him I need some help.”

“Thank you.”

“Ready to go?”

“When you are,” she answers.

Standing, he pulls her along.

…

_Present_

Bracing herself, Natasha slides into Steve’s lap.

He simply gives her a look before going back to drinking his beer.

Clint, however, openly gapes. “Nat?”

“Two clock,” she tells him. “Pretty, dark-skinned honey-blonde has been making eyes at you for the last ten minutes. Until now, she thought you and I were together. Stop gaping, punch Steve’s shoulder, and raise your glass.”

Complying, he asks, “Are we sure it’s not cap. she’s looking at? Or even you? I know how many civil somethings using facial recognition on civilians violates, but should we-”

“No,” is Steve’s firm reply. He glances over. “And yes, we’re sure it’s definitely you she’s watching.”

She squeezes Steve’s hand in thanks. The fact they even still have such technology doesn’t sit well with him, but ever since Stark did some unauthorised modifications to ensure it was hard for anyone to use without significant proof someone was either a legitimate threat or in immediate danger, he’s relaxed somewhat.

“Do you think she recognises-”

“This is taking too long." Reaching over, she grabs Clint’s beer and quickly drinks it. “You have your knives and Tasers. If you don’t call me by nine in the morning, I’ll send out a search party. Now, go order another beer, and do not interrogate her when she comes over to talk to you.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart."

Steve has a leg hooked over hers, a hand encircling her wrists, and his arm keeping her pressed against him before she can attack.

“So,” he asks in his tentative voice as they discreetly watch the honey-blonde approach Clint, “‘darling’ is okay, but ‘sweetheart’ is- something not good?”

“Only when he uses it,” she answers without thinking.

Cursing herself, she grabs her beer and drinks.

“Okay,” he says. “Want to get off my lap, now?”

“Better vantage point.”

Nodding, he continues sipping his own beer.

…

When they get back to the tower, Steve says, “What I don’t understand is how you cheered up when he left with her.”

Confused, she looks over. “I’d be cheered up even more if you finally got a girlfriend. Most likely, she isn’t going to be anything serious, but if he has some good recreationally naked fun, of course, I’m going to be happy for him. Is this your start of the 20th century mores coming-”

He scoffs. “Even in the forties, I knew a good chunk of people got recreationally naked for fun without being serious about one another. It’s just- you and he, uh-” He gives her a searching look.

“Oh. No. We sometimes sleep together, captain. And by that, I mean, we literally sleep in the same bed at the same time. He doesn’t like sleeping with a shirt on, and I like my nightdresses. I’m not going to sleep in something more conservative just because there’s a man in bed with me. We’re friends, and we’re partners. Nothing else.”

He starts to say something but visibly changes his mind.

She imagines this is better for both of them.

“So, it really was just him calling you that, that made you testy?”

“Testy,” she repeats with a laugh.

He gives her a soft smile.

“Yeah,” she answers. “That was all.”

He nods. “Goodnight, Natasha.”

“Night."

He heads to his room.

Glad he didn’t try to walk her to her door, she goes to Clint’s room, changes into one of his sweatshirts, and crawls into his bed.

…

“Nat, wake up.”

She feels Clint shaking her, opening her eyes, she finds him practically vibrating on the bed.

“Good night,” she inquires.

Nodding, he grins widely. “I definitely owe you. I’ve already eaten, but I’ll buy you whatever you want for breakfast.”

“I’ll go change,” she says. “Take a shower.”

“Already have.”

“With or without the honey-blonde?”

The look on his face renders the need for a verbal answer obsolete.

“Take another,” she orders.

…

“Are you going to see her again?”

He shakes his head. “No names. No numbers. We both agreed we both just wanted a night of fun.”

“And a morning,” she dryly points out.

He laughs. “Yeah. That, too.”

“Good."

“Did you and cap. have a good time?”

“We had a blast. He didn’t bring up Barnes once.”

“He and Falcon any closer to find him?”

“I don’t know,” she answers.

She’s offered to help, but Steve doesn’t like it when she tries to point out his best friend might well and truly be gone. Just because the body was rescued doesn’t mean there’s a guarantee any of who Bucky Barnes once was still remains.

Eventually, she managed to more-or-less overcome the conditioning done by the Red Room. She doesn’t remember the child she was, and she doesn’t know if anything the child was meant to be and grow into survived or not.

She likes to think, if not for the Red Room, the child never would have hurt and killed innocent people.

“Hey, you okay, Tasha?”

“I worry about him." Changing the subject, she asks, "Who fixed who breakfast? Or who bought it?”

“I did,” he says with a small smile. “I fixed an omelette and some tofu bacon. She’s not a vegetarian, but she doesn't like regular. We had apple juice.”

She smiles. “And you didn’t manage to spill or burn anything?”

He sticks his tongue out. “No. It was your fault the spaghetti was burnt in-”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Was,” he insists.

She simply looks at him.

“Let’s have a day out,” he says. “I have so much energy, Tasha.”

“Okay."

…

An hour after going to bed, she finally acknowledges she’s not going to get any sleep.

She’s at Clint’s door before she fully makes a conscious decision.

For a long moment, she hesitates, and then, sighing, she turns.

“Jarvis, is anyone in the astronomy wing?”

“No, Agent Romanov. Would you like me to turn on the lights and heat for you?”

“The heat, please,” she answers. “Leave the lights off. I want to look at the stars.”

“Would you like me to prepare one of the telescopes?”

“No. I’m going to lie down and look up.”

When she gets there, she finds a robot scuttling around, and when she lies down, it tugs at a strand of her hair a few times before zipping off.

She looks up at the stars, counts her breaths, and wonders how Clint’s farsightedness makes them look to him.

The door opens, and out of the corner of her eye, she sees Steve’s bare feet.

“Oh,” he says. “I didn’t think to ask Jarvis if anyone was here.”

“Feel like some company,” she asks. “Or do you want to be alone?”

“I wouldn’t mind some.” He sinks down against the wall. She doesn’t protest when he picks her head up and sets it on his outstretched legs. “You okay?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

 _Don’t challenge him_ , she tells herself. _He’ll take it._

“Can I tell you something I’ve never told anyone? Not even Peggy or Sam?”

“If you want to trust me that much, I’d be honoured.” She hopes he hears the honesty of her words.

“I don’t know what I’d be if I were born nearer this century. It’s important you understand that, unless someone else comes along, Peggy is always going to be my best girl. It was too soon back, then, but I wanted to marry her. If things hadn’t happened, I think we would have.”

“I’ve always understood that,” she assures him.

“Sometimes, boys do things in the dark of their bedroom,” he tells her with a slight squirm.

“Really,” she says. “I’m not sure my delicate ears can handle hearing such scandal.”

“And sometimes,” he continues, “they have a best friend, another boy, in bed with them, and they do these things with and to each other.”

“Probably not something I’d recommend you tell the public, but you do realise that doesn’t say anything about you and Barnes but that you were both actually fairly normal?”

He sighs, and she looks up to see the closed eyes and pained expression on his face.

“Hey.” She starts to sit up.

He gently pushes her back down.

“Things were different back then,” he says. “We never talked about it. I’m not- I was going to fight for my country no matter what. I lived in a fairly liberal area for the time, but if segregation became an issue there, I would have done something. But telling your best friend, a boy people said might as well have been your brother- I wish I were as brave as everyone thinks I am,” he chokes out.

Reaching out, she plays with his foot until the trembles stop.

Carefully sitting up, she puts his arm over her shoulder and presses against him. “I don’t think anyone is completely fearless. And I think even the bravest people occasionally do or don’t do something out of fear or doubt or just plain confusion they don’t know how to sort out. For some people, it’s easy to do the right thing as long as they know what the right thing is. It’s easy to risk losing everything important to them if they know that others are going to benefit from their sacrifice.”

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“Don’t try to use my words against me,” she says. “One time. After a mission. We drank sake, danced, kissed, and ended up in his room. I was on his lap, and he’s never told me who the caller on the other end was, but it came before we could fully do anything. When we got back, I put on a dress I knew he loved seeing me in. And you’d probably be impressed with how _gentlemanly_ he was about it. I was his best friend, and we worked so well together in the field.”

“Oh.” He winces.

“Yeah,” she says. “And I’m still his best friend, and we still work together great in the field. I’m not risking that by taking another chance.”

He pulls her closer to him, and she closes her eyes.

…

After he finds her and Steve sleeping astronomy wing, Clint waits until they’re alone to comment, “Interesting position.”

“He needed a shoulder to cry on,” she simply replies.

He nods. “Anything the rest of us can do?”

“No. Let’s spar.”

“Okay.”

When they get to the gym, he hesitates. “Tasha, I know you’ve said you aren’t interested in-”

“And I’m not,” she says. “You know that I’d tell you if I had plans to seduce Captain America. You made me promise, remember?”

When she was first integrating into S.H.I.E.L.D., she’d had sex with one of the handlers. It wasn’t one of theirs, but Clint had refused to let the subject drop until it was agreed: Sex with civilians was fine, as long as she didn’t kill and/or non-consensually torture them. He’d also personally appreciate it if she stayed away from anyone in a relationship and people under twenty but acknowledged it wasn’t his place to ask those conditions. Sex with agents they might work with or with those on a higher level than her, he wouldn’t stop her from pursuing, but he did feel she did owe him the professional courtesy of telling him so he could make plans should his career be affected by her actions.

She’d agreed, because, she realises in retrospect, his voice had been soft and reasonable, and probably more significantly, his leg had been pressed against hers.

Someday, she’s sure, she’ll either forgive or thank Banner for opening her eyes to something she should have known long before the aborted encounter in Clint’s hotel room happened.

“You can want a relationship with someone without planning to seduce them,” he points out.

“Let’s spar,” she says.

…

They lay panting on the floor.

“Seriously, Tasha,” he says. “You’ve never really been in a relationship since I’ve known you. Maybe you should try it.”

“You haven’t, either."

She can vaguely feel him shrug. “Divorced, darling,” he reminds her. “Probably not a very popular opinion, but generally, I tend to think, if a person can’t make a marriage work, they should maybe take that as an indication they need to approach relationships in a vastly different way than they have before.”

“I think even Steve would have a more relaxed opinion on the subject.”

Carefully standing, they make their way over to the bleachers.

A robot offers them each a power drink.

Leaning against the wall, she puts her feet in his lap.

“Okay,” he says.

Setting the drink down, she looks over.

He catches her eyes. “Tasha, I’m fine. What Loki did is never going to completely go away, but it’s the same with plenty of things in my past. I am doing much better. I don’t need to sleep with you when I have a bad dream. And I’m at a point where I want to be okay. If I need help, I promise, I’ll get it. I just don’t want you to put anything on hold because you think you need to be available for me. You don’t. I’m fine, Natasha.”

She almost jokes, _You always need me_ , but thinks better of it.

“I know,” she says. “You’re only worrying about this because you’re still riding the high of your night out, and that’s coloured your perception of how you found me and Steve. He needed a shoulder, Clint. And the fact you’re in a place now where you can let a girl take you home and have a good time has the opposite effect on my worries than you’re thinking.”

She sees him accept the truth of her words.

“It isn’t because he’s a bad kisser, is it? Because, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you judging a man’s performance when he’s literally got the whole country out to get him.”

He hits the floor hard when she kicks him.

Laughing, he gets back up, lifts her feet, and sets them in his lap. “Okay. No more talk about you and Captain America.”


End file.
